


Loving Her Was Green

by niffizzle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Hermione Granger, Co-workers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Jealous Draco Malfoy, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Office Sex, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niffizzle/pseuds/niffizzle
Summary: Their secret shag sessions were a means to an end — mutually beneficial and nothing more. But when jealousy takes over, Draco Malfoy should have known better than to think it could have ever stopped there.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter
Comments: 97
Kudos: 1113
Collections: 2020 Sounds Like Dramione





	Loving Her Was Green

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [2020SoundsLikeDramione](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2020SoundsLikeDramione) collection. 



> Originally written for Dramione Fanfiction Forum's Sound Like Dramione comp. Endless thanks to LightofEvolution for being my always wonderful beta.
> 
> The prompt for my story was 
> 
> "I know there's no form  
> And no labels to put on  
> To this thing we keep  
> And dip into when we need  
> And I don't have the right  
> To ask where you go at night  
> But the waves hit my head  
> To think someone's in your bed"
> 
> Genghis Khan - Miike Snow
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The adrenaline of the successful mission swam in his veins. Draco and his partner had captured three dealers in possession of Venomous Tentacula seeds, but his goals now laid elsewhere. With the mission complete, it was time to celebrate.

The path to her office was entrenched in his memory as if it were his own birthdate. Even with an Obscuro Charm masking his vision, his feet would know the way. 

One knock was all it took for her to open the door and let him inside. As she had cleverly charmed, the door automatically locked behind him while a veil of some spell she refused to confide in him muffled any noise they made to those on the other side.

 _Good._ Draco intended to take full advantage of those conditions.

“Granger.” His voice was a purr that he knew would erase any thoughts about the report she had been working on. 

She pushed back her chair, teeth catching her bottom lip. “Malfoy.”

Draco closed the space between them, pulling Granger by the fabric of her blouse until her lips sealed with his. She moaned, and Draco pulled her closer, grinding his hips into her. He’d spent the past several years working as an Auror, but _this_ was his favourite part of the job.

Her hands slid up Draco’s chest, and already, he could feel his cock twitch. The witch was magic in more ways than one. He stepped further into her, and her backside hit the edge of the desk. The trace of her fingertips continued to roam his chest and down his arms, exploring the Auror uniform he knew incited her arousal. It was half the reason he had come straight from the mission to her office. That, and his constant desire to see her come undone under his touch.

With a wandless spell, Draco cast away all items and her desk. The most delicious sounds escaped her lips as his hot breath ghosted over her mouth before he ravished her with kiss after kiss. She dug her fingers into his hair, giving it a firm tug, and Draco sharply inhaled. Perhaps _she_ would be the undoing of _him_.

His need only growing, Draco lifted her onto the desk and pushed his tongue into her mouth. The warmth of her supple form leaned into him, stabilized by Granger’s palms pressed against the woodgrains. The soft curve of her chest teased him from what little was exposed from her buttoned blouse, and Draco wondered for not the first time what it would be like to see her properly naked. 

But this was no romantic shag. This was a quick fuck in the middle of the workday — mutually beneficial and nothing more.

He positioned her to the edge of the desk and bunched her skirt around her waist. Granger moved her hands to rest on Draco’s shoulders, fingernails biting into his skin through his uniform, when his fingers found her knickers and ran over her heat.

Her forehead dropped into the curve of his neck, and she let out a gasp. “Oh, god, Malfoy.”

Already, he could feel the evidence of her arousal, spurring the longing trapped inside Draco’s trousers to tighten. If he had more time, he’d lay her across the desk and lavish her until she came from his tongue alone. But that was yet another fantasy filed away.

Instead he slid down her knickers and pushed a finger inside her core. Draco grinned at the way her eyelids fell shut while her lips parted in silent satisfaction. He added a second, delighting in the way her walls clenched around his fingers. He was so immersed in the feeling, he hadn’t noticed Granger unbutton his trousers until her fingers closed around his length and began to stroke.

The adrenaline from the mission was now replaced entirely by the electrifying sensations that rippled through Draco from the torturous movement of her grip. He dropped his forehead against hers, letting his ragged breaths fill the space between them. 

“Fucking hell, witch.” Draco tilted his head to lock their lips in a kiss. He couldn’t wait much longer.

After shoving his pants and trousers to his knees, Draco guided her grip so he was poised at her entrance. He pushed in slowly, feeling the tension of her body wrap around him in an intoxicating heat. The pace started slow as they found their rhythm, but it wasn’t long before Draco had his fingers firmly pressed into her hips as he repeatedly drove himself inside. He didn’t care if he left bruises. In fact, he hoped he did. That way, if she was sleeping with anyone else, they’d know he’d been there first.

Her body closed tightly around him, eyelids shut in ecstasy as the fervour of her response grew increasingly urgent. Her arms wrapped around Draco’s neck, shallow gasps escaping her lips with every thrust. 

“More,” she breathed. “Please, Draco.”

With his name on her tongue, his pleasure reached a new precipice. Who was he to deny what she wanted? Brushing the pad of his thumb over her most sensitive spot, it only took a few more moments for Granger to reach her climax, Draco’s release following close behind.

The thrashing of his heart was the only movement while he and Granger stilled in the wake of the passion. Her chest rose and fell in time with her heavy breaths, and Draco captured one final kiss before slipping out of her and tucking himself back inside his trousers. Granger hopped off the desk and straightened her skirt, but there was nothing she could do to correct the swell of her lips. The potential of other Aurors noticing Granger’s slight shift in appearance made their little trysts that much more exciting.

“I take it the mission went well?” Granger asked as she attempted to flatten her hair.

Draco blew out a snort. “Did you expect otherwise?” He looked down at his uniform to make sure nothing was out of sorts before letting his eyes fall back to Granger. A smile danced across his lips. “I like it when you call me Draco.”

She pulled out her wand and cast the charm so all the items returned to their previous position on her desk. “And yet, I’m still to hear you call me Hermione.”

He smirked. “Granger’s sexier.”

He examined the half-written report in the centre of her desk. “You finally caught the person behind those break-ins at Amelia’s Apothecary?”

Granger smoothed the fabric of her skirt before sinking back into her chair. “Yes, and I have to present my findings to Robards in an hour, so I must get back to work.”

“Ah, yes, well, don’t let me distract you,” Draco said with a roguish grin. “I wouldn’t dare interrupt Hermione Granger while she’s trying to work.”

She glared up at him through her eyelashes, but the small, upward curve at the corner of her lips revealed her true feelings. She could try to deny it, but she enjoyed their workplace relations just as much as he did. With their jobs so stressful, even she needed a mental — and physical — escape. 

Draco pulled out his pocket watch and immediately returned it to his trousers. “Best get going anyway,” he said. “Our mission debriefing is set to begin in fifteen. But I assume you’re attending Aiken’s party tomorrow night?”

She leaned forward. “Trying to expand our rendezvous beyond the office?”

Draco laughed. “You wish, Granger.”

* * *

Aiken’s party was a predictable snore. Part of Draco had considered skipping it, but Theo had threatened to curse him with a Horn-Growing Hex if he made Theo attend without him. 

“I would have preferred we get drinks on Diagon,” Draco said behind his glass of inferior whisky. He surveyed the room of assorted Ministry employees and other former Hogwarts students, landing on Potter presently speaking with the party’s host. ”The bloody wizard killed Voldemort. You’d think he could handle going to a party without you.”

Theo snorted, simultaneously shaking his head. “Believe it or not, there’s this thing in a relationship where you do something because you know it’s important to the other person, even if they don’t say it.” Theo tilted his head. “Though I suppose you wouldn’t know, would you?”

Draco huffed before taking a sip from his drink. “I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Right, cause you’re too busy shagging Hermione all over DMLE.”

The menacing glare that Draco shot his way would have been intimidating to anyone else, but after over two decades of friendship, it was ineffective. Theo merely chuckled, and Draco once again regretted the night he had drunkenly slipped to Theo about their escapades.

“If you ever so much as _hint_ to Potter about what goes on between me and Granger, I will personally ensure that your father gets released from Azkaban early.”

They both knew it was an empty threat, but the sheer insinuation served enough of a point.

Theo backed down, and the conversation followed elsewhere, but thoughts of the witch were now on the forefront of Draco’s mind. Furtive eyes scanned the living space until they found her in the opposite corner, speaking with some wizard he recognized from the Department of Magical Transportation. Granger’s eyes were alight in conversation, as was typical when she got immersed in a topic. An envious feeling started to spread inside Draco like drops of poison. He knew it was nothing, vaguely recalling meeting the man’s wife at the Ministry Christmas party, but even the possibility of Granger with another wizard stirred an envious roar inside his chest.

Draco banished the thought. He had no say in who she spoke to. Granger could do whatever and _whoever_ she wanted.

Yet his gaze kept tracking back to her, his focus incapable of staying on Theo. Glance after glance, images of dragging her away from the wizard and into Aiken’s bathroom slipped into his imagination. He pictured himself peeling off her Muggle jeans and the way her head would knock back against the wall while a moan filled the small space. He needed her here. He needed her now.

He needed to get his mind off of her.

Forcing any thought of Granger to the distant crevices of his brain, Draco drained the rest of his whisky. He turned to Theo. “On second thought, perhaps I ought to consider finding someone.”

He spent the next two hours bouncing between witches, pretending not to be looking at Granger every opportunity he could steal. This was the fourth time she was speaking alone with McLaggen. And by his estimates, her fifth drink. She was loudly giggling as though someone had filled her glass with Gigglewater, a loud tinkle that taunted his eardrums. And when McLaggen put his hand on Granger’s knee, Draco had seen enough. 

Excusing himself from Penelope or Patricia or whatever her name was, Draco crossed the length of the room and stood between their positions on the sofa.

McLaggen stiffened at Draco’s presence while the sparkle in Granger’s eyes dimmed.

Draco locked his gaze on the witch. “I need to speak with you.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “I was beginning to believe we don’t even _interact_ outside of the office.”

The ice in her glare was as cold as winter air, but something was off. Her words weren’t as crisp as he was accustomed to, and her body was gently swaying.

He whipped his attention to McLaggen. “Go get her a glass of water.”

The wanker wrinkled his forehead. “Or I could conjure—”

_“Now.”_

McLaggen took the hint and left for the kitchen, Draco immediately taking the recently vacated spot. 

“Merlin, Granger,” Draco said with an exasperated groan. “McLaggen?”

She huffed, causing some of the loose curls around her face to shift. “You have a problem with it?”

“You’re free to do as you please,” Draco returned. His grip around his glass tightened. “Though I question your judgement.”

Her eyes ignited. “Why? Because he isn’t you?”

Tantalizing fingers crawled up his thigh, and Draco withheld a hiss. Even her simplest touch incited him with ardent desire. It would be so easy to kiss her right there, for everyone to see, making it clear that _something_ — regardless of how one chose to define it — was going on between them, but logic quickly caught up.

He swept her hand away. “No, because you’re drunk.”

She leaned back, something darkening in her gaze. “It is a party. Shouldn’t I enjoy myself? _You_ certainly seem to be.” Her lips flattened before she pushed herself upright. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

She only made it one step before her footing faltered and she started to stumble. Draco was on his feet faster than a heartbeat, catching her in his arms.

For a brief moment, the resentment that had tainted her gaze flickered, replaced by the more familiar warmth he saw whenever they were together in one of their offices. It quickly vanished.

“Forget it,” she said, removing herself from Draco’s hold. “I’m Apparating home.”

She started to walk away, but Draco caught her hand. “Under these conditions? You’ll splinch.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Draco shook his head. “I’m not risking that. You’re sleeping at my place.”

 _“Your_ place?” Granger huffed. “I could just as easily find someone keyed to my wards who could Side-Along me to my own home.”

Draco mentally sneered. That’s precisely what he _didn’t_ want. It was selfish, but he wouldn’t be able to get a drop of sleep if there was any chance of someone else ending up in bed with her. Even if Potter was the one to take her home, there was nothing stopping her from owling or Floo Calling McLaggen to join her later.

He looked down to where their hands were still connected. A rush flooded his veins. “Someone should be there to make sure you’re alright.”

She stared at him for what felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than a handful of passing seconds. In his head was a chorus pleading for her to agree. He wasn’t sure what he would do if she didn’t.

Her hand slipped out of his. “Just… let me tell Harry I’m leaving.”

The tension in Draco’s shoulders relaxed as Granger walked away with the assurance that she would soon return. He drifted his eyelids shut. For the first time in a couple hours, the roar inside his chest dimmed to a hum. But it only lasted a moment.

“Where’s Hermione going?”

Draco turned to confront McLaggen who had finally returned with a cup of water. 

He levelled the wizard with a stern stare. “Leaving.”

“Really?” McLaggen raised his chin, eyes seeming to track where Granger had gone to speak with Potter. A smarmy grin spread his lips. “I should see if she wants my company.”

The dragon caged behind Draco’s ribs flared back to life. “That won’t be necessary,” he curtly countered. He took the water glass from McLaggen’s hand. “She’ll see you Monday.”

As Draco walked away, a boost of victory bolstered his grin.

* * *

Draco had to keep his arm hooked behind Granger in order to stabilize her when they landed back in his flat. With a wandless _Lumos_ , he called for the lights to illuminate the space.

“It’s not green,” she remarked once she had gained her footing and had taken a look around.

Draco let out a short laugh. “Contrary to popular belief, I did grow up after Hogwarts and don’t insist on my home looking like my school years common room.”

He guided the way to his bedroom, Granger following closely by his side. “I know that,” she said. “The Draco of our childhood never would have done this.”

Draco didn’t return a comment, though he wasn’t quite sure what she meant by _‘this.’_ Welcome Hermione Granger into his home? Speak with her without animosity? Sleep with her on a routine basis? No, back at Hogwarts, he wouldn’t have considered or even fathomed any of those things.

Manage circumstances to make sure the evening ended the way he wanted? Yes.

When they reached his bedroom, Draco motioned her towards the bed while he rummaged through his wardrobe for the silk pyjama set his mother had gifted him with his initials embroidered on the pocket.

“Here’s the top,” he said upon locating the first piece. He tossed it to Granger. “Now where are the bottoms?”

It took a few more moments of searching, but when Draco turned from his dresser to hand her the rest of the pyjamas, he froze mid-throw. His throat ran dry.

Granger had slipped on the shirt and was starting to button it from the top. As Draco followed her movement downward, his vision was distracted by the bare stretch of skin that exposed her toned stomach and continued past her lace knickers and long legs. He could feel himself staring, but he found little power within himself to pull his attention elsewhere. Months of shagging had never bared her this much to him. Or at least, not long enough for him to properly revere.

“Oh, close your jaw.” Granger’s voice interrupted his admiration. A playful grin curled the edges of her lips. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” She stretched out a hand, and Draco blinked himself out of his daze long enough to toss her the bottoms. She didn’t put them on. “Unless you’d rather I keep them off?” 

His mouth was as dry as an empty cauldron as Granger closed the space between them, leaving the bottoms in a forgotten pile on the floor. He cursed internally at the intoxicating sight of her. Fucking Merlin, the way her hips were swaying, brushing against the hem of the pyjama shirt — _his_ pyjama shirt. With _his_ initials on it. Almost as though she was his. 

He wanted so badly to believe that. Get lost in the thought of Granger being his, for more than just a series of quick shags during the work week. He could have her right here, right now, in his bed. He’d finally be able to see, to feel, to explore every inch of her naked form. To pleasure her slowly or perhaps even multiple times. To lose himself in this witch until they both were fully spent, not just because they had to leave for a work obligation.

Granger's chest was no more than an inch away from his, and he could swear his breathing stopped. Her fingers found the strands of his hair like they had dozens of times before, but the resulting sensation never waned. He wanted her. _Needed her._ And then she popped up on her toes and kissed him. 

His body was alight in beautiful bliss. After months of hurried rendezvous at work, he had her in his bedroom. All those fantasies could come true. But there was one, massive problem. 

Mustering all his will, he peeled Granger off of him. 

“You’re drunk.”

Granger blinked at him. “So? It’s not like this is any different than what we do at work.”

But to Draco, it _was_ different. Because as he gazed into her amber brown eyes, he accepted the budding truth that he wanted more than what they currently had. And as much as he was a man who did whatever was necessary to get what he wanted, this crossed the line. 

“I invited you over to sleep,” he said, straining to keep his voice neutral. “That is all.”

The room was draped in tense silence after that. The rejection had turned her demeanour stony, and he didn’t fight her on it. He let Granger have the bed, and her back remained turned to him while he conjured a glass of water to place on the nightstand. They could talk in the morning. When she was sober, and his heart hadn’t been thrashing all evening in blinding jealousy. For now, she needed to sleep.

After closing the door behind him, Draco lingered for a few moments, hand still on the doorknob. His eyelids gently shut, but he heard no noise coming from the opposite side of the barrier. He sucked in a lung-filling breath. “Goodnight, Hermione.”

As he tried to fall asleep on the rigid dragon-hide sofa, it wasn’t thoughts of McLaggen in Granger’s bed that haunted him. No, it was something much worse. It was the way her smile had lit up her face while speaking to that other wizard and the painful truth that Draco wished more than anything that he had been the one who had spent all evening making her laugh.

* * *

The talk at breakfast didn’t happen. By the time Draco had awakened Sunday morning, his room was empty and the bed was made. It wasn’t until the weekly department-wide briefing meeting Monday morning that he saw her again. But even then, their interactions were brief at best. Draco had arrived extra early, knowing her proclivity to be at meetings at least ten minutes before the scheduled start. Their eyes had only locked for a sliver of a second before she sharply turned on her heel and sat next to a different DMLE employee at the far end of the table.

Now he was attempting to listen to Potter discuss the whereabouts of a Demiguise trafficking ring without getting sidetracked by McLaggen seated opposite him. If anyone was paying less attention than Draco, it was McLaggen. His eyes had yet to leave Granger.

The grip on Draco’s quill tightened, though he hadn’t taken a note in several minutes. Thankfully, the meeting adjourned before the quill bent under the pressure.

McLaggen started to head Granger’s way, but Draco got there first. From his periphery, he saw McLaggen divert from his path and exit the meeting room instead. Apparently, the wizard had _some_ sense.

But McLaggen was no longer his main concern. 

She was compiling her notes into a neat stack — an impressive six sheets of twelve inch long parchment for a concise, thirty minute meeting.

Draco snorted in amusement. “Suspect we’ll have a quiz about everything Robards and Potter said?”

Granger briefly glanced at him before gathering her parchments off the desk and holding them to her chest. “Do you need something, Malfoy?”

“A word? In my office?”

Her features fell flat. “I’m not in the mood.”

A lump formed in his throat. “That wasn’t my intention,” Draco swiftly amended. “I merely noticed you left Sunday morning before I awoke.”

Granger’s head whipped in both directions, her face flushed when it returned to facing him. “I’d appreciate if you said that more quietly,” she chastised, her voice a harsh whisper. “What should I have done? Stayed for tea and toast?” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “That’s— That’s clearly not what this is between us.”

Draco made to protest, but similar to what had happened over the weekend, she was gone before he had the chance.

* * *

The week proceeded at sluggish speed, but somehow, eventually, Draco survived to Friday. He and Granger hadn’t exchanged many words since their clipped interaction on Monday. They hadn’t even hooked up. He was fairly certain this marked the first week they had gone without since their relations had started nearly four months prior. The thought clawed at his chest.

Other Aurors had already started to go home, but Draco had a few matters to wrap up. It was difficult to focus on work when his mind kept wandering elsewhere. 

He quickly completed one report and left two others unfinished. He couldn’t concentrate. He’d just have to address them Monday. 

After slipping on his cloak, Draco proceeded down the corridors. He didn’t realize until it was too late that his feet had instinctively led him to Granger’s office, not the Floos.

Her door was open, and Draco couldn’t help but pause outside the door frame. So often he had made this journey to her office with the sole intention to shag her senseless. But that idea didn’t cross his mind. After a week of near silence, all he wanted to do was talk. Spend time with her. Get to know her beyond their past and workplace pleasantries. 

She was in the middle of tidying her desk, apparently also about to be on her way out. It wasn’t unusual for Granger to stay later than others. He was well aware of how serious she took her position. What was unusual, though, was the fact that she was no longer wearing her typical pencil skirt and button down blouse attire. Instead, she was wearing a dress. A nice dress.

Fleeting acknowledgement of McLaggen walking past Draco’s door not ten minutes earlier now passed through his memory. He had also changed.

Burning envy flared inside Draco’s ribcage. He crossed the threshold into her office, arms locked across his chest. “Special occasion?”

Granger straightened out one final parchment before peering up at him. A faint blush coloured her cheeks. “I spilled permanent ink on my blouse earlier and couldn’t charm the stain out.”

Draco’s features tightened. “So it doesn’t have to do with you meeting up with McLaggen?”

She grimaced, wincing slightly. “I told him not to say anything.”

“He didn’t.” Draco took a step forward. “You just did.”

He noticed the subtle way her fingers twitched and the faintly distant look that muddled her eyes. “It’s just drinks,” she said after a moment’s stall. The sharpness in her glare returned. “Besides, what does it matter what I do after work hours? I thought what you and I do here doesn’t transfer outside these walls.”

It used to. But, Merlin, how he didn’t want that to be true anymore.

He tried to find the words, but he couldn’t think of them fast enough. So he curled his fingers into her hair and pulled her in for a desperate kiss.

Less than a week had passed since the last time his lips had found hers, yet the days without had made him starving for the sensation. The kiss was slow. Gentle. Nothing like the fervent ones in which they usually engaged. But he took his time now, relishing the soft plushness of her lips and the familiar comfort of her body pressed against his. Her hands had found his cheeks, keeping him close as they sunk deeper into the kiss. His heart was singing. It was different from all their previous kisses. He could feel it in every pore of his skin. He didn’t want it to end.

But it did.

Granger pulled away, eyes a murky cloud of confusion. “I— I can’t keep doing this, Draco,” she stammered. “I’m going to be late for my date.”

She slipped out of his hold, and Draco watched in frozen disbelief as she left him standing in her office alone. 

Something shattered inside of him, but he couldn’t let her go. Not after that. There was something there between them. Something _more._ He couldn’t be the only one who felt it.

He darted through the corridors, but she was no longer in sight. He pressed the lift button several times, urgently waiting for the next one to arrive. When the gated doors opened, his fingers drummed against his thigh as the lift moved towards the Atrium. The moment he arrived on the level, his eyes swept across the array of departing witches and wizards until he spotted the only one he cared about.

The pound of his sprinted footsteps echoed beneath him as Draco weaved his way through the Atrium. He caught her just as she was about to enter one of the fireplaces.

Her eyes were wide as she spun around to see him grasping her hand. “Draco, what—”

“McLaggen,” he said, voice still panting with heavy breaths. “What does he have that I don’t?”

Granger’s face was a mix of emotions. “ _He_ asked me out.”

She yanked her hand out of his grip, but he caught it once more. “Hermione, don’t.”

“And why not, Malfoy?” she bit back. The glossy glaze over her eyes shined in the nearby fire’s light. “You can spend all of Saturday night flirting with every other witch at the party, but I’m not allowed to take the hint and try to date someone else?”

His heart shuttered in a jumbled beat. “Because the only witch I wanted to talk with that night was you. I just hadn’t accepted that yet.” 

Wide eyes scanned his face, though she didn’t withdraw from his touch. “Saturday night. I— I thought I could fake it,” she choked. “That something was better than nothing. But I can’t keep being some meaningless shag to you, I need more.”

“You won’t be,” he promised, taking a step closer. “Not meaningless. Not anymore.” He cupped her jaw. “Get drinks with _me_. Or dinner. Hell, let me take you to Paris for the weekend. Just— don’t go out with him.”

The sparkle returned to her gaze. “You mean that?”

“Profusely.”

He dropped his touch and brought his hand back into hers. Only this time, she was the one who twined their fingers together. Their eyes were locked on one another, except for the single moment Draco flicked his gaze to the fireplaces. Hermione nodded in agreement, and with their hands still clasped together, he led them into the fireplace where the green flames soon enveloped them and took them far away from the Ministry. 

He and Granger were soon getting drinks and dinner together — only, the wine and meal were served at the Malfoy family vineyard in Bordeaux instead of them travelling to Paris. They made love that night in the bedroom overlooking the lush landscape, Draco taking his time as the waves of her sweet release consumed him three separate times. When daybreak came, there were no more doubts in either of their minds that this was — or ever would be again — a meaningless shag without forms or labels. Granger was his and he was Granger’s. The dragon inside his chest rested peacefully.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated and bring all the joy 💙
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr ([niffizzle](https://niffizzle.tumblr.com/)) for future story updates and to see what else I'm working on :)


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